


anything worth this feeling (never amounted)

by my_infinite_variety



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s02e03 The Nightmare Begins, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Secret Relationship, Kilgharrah Sucks, M/M, No Dialogue, Soft Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 07:56:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20422547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_infinite_variety/pseuds/my_infinite_variety
Summary: merlin is crushed by guilt and runs to the one person he wants comfort from.





	anything worth this feeling (never amounted)

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Florence + The Machine's "All This And Heaven Too"  
The full lyrics are:  
"No, words are a language  
It doesn't deserve such treatment  
And all of my stumbling phrases never amounted to anything worth this feeling"

Merlin steps from Morgana’s room, hands shaking and breath coming in short, shallow gasps. He had kept himself quiet and contained in the presence of the king (not his king, never his king) and Gaius but now, in the silence of the corridor, he lets himself feel the crushing guilt. 

He remembers her face, pale and shining with cold sweat, and the smell of smoke is stuck in his nose, reminding himself of his own failure. All he wants, in the moment, is to be in the warmth of Arthur’s chambers, even if he was reduced to scrubbing the floor on his bruised knees. The familiar thought is a strange sort of comfort.

His legs, while unsteady and shaking, drive him through the halls and to Arthur’s door. He feels magic buzzing under his skin, at his fingertips, and he wants so badly to tell his prince the truth. The only thing he is sure of now is that he will never return to the caves under the castle. He will never again listen to the manipulative claims made by the great serpent who had guided his every step since entering Camelot. 

His hand, quivering, rests against the wood of Arthur’s door and he knows that the prince is sleeping, not yet roused in the midst of chaos. It takes barely a thought to unlock and open the door, make his way across the cool stone, and slip under the rich sheets of Arthur’s bed. The caress of wealthy fabric is more familiar than it should be and he submits himself to the forbidden nature of what he is doing, but the sudden grip around his wrist makes him gasp and he looks up to meet blue eyes.

He knows he must look dreadful. His hair is most definitely a mess and his eyes must be red and swollen from the rubbing to keep the tears at bay. And Arthur - sharp, scathing Arthur - looks understanding and doesn’t make a sound, instead pulls him close and tucks the sorcerer under his chin like a child. 

Merlin, without encouragement, hides his face in the curve of Arthur’s neck and closes his eyes tightly against the tears welling up at the back of his throat. His shoulders, against his wishes, begin to shake and his body is seized by sobs. It’s not enough to alleviate the guilt but the warmth seeping into his cold bones gives him enough peace to rest, even for a moment.

Merlin will put his life in the hands of Arthur in the morning, curl the prince’s fingers around his heart and bare his soul. But for now, he lets himself be comforted as if it’s his last chance.

**Author's Note:**

> don't forget to leave a comment!


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